


Scarlet: second hand clothing

by AniaLupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2020-11-24 01:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniaLupin/pseuds/AniaLupin
Summary: On that first Monday of September, Ginevra Molly Weasley thought it would be just another day. The witch couldn't imagine the love of her life was hours away from moving into the newly vacated apartment, next door to her own. Just as she had no way of knowing that what was around her neck was more than just a necklace.





	1. Prologue

It was uncertain - at least for the witch - how the pendant had stopped at her neck. For her, the story would always start with: it was at the bottom of a picnic-like basket. For it was in the middle of one of her early mornings, as she rummaged through the just arrived boxes full of old items, that Ginevra found the cut stone, so clear it was almost transparent, looking fresh and old at the same time. If it weren't for the broken clasp - and the necklace itself, which looked older than she would ever be - the woman would be sure the item had been mistakenly placed inside the donation box.

Sitting on the floor of her thrift store, among three huge cardboard boxes, the woman holding the crystal had two options: put a price on it, or put it in her pocket. Unfortunately, she'd have to wait until late at night to try it on - no magic allowed in the premisses. With that decision made, her new costume jewellery - because for sure she wasn't dealing with a real gem - ended up in the left pocket of her battered jeans.

On that first Monday of September, Ginevra Molly Weasley thought it would be just another day. She would never have imagined, especially at half-past five in the morning, that the love of her life was hours away from moving into the newly vacated apartment, next door to her own. The witch already had the love of her life - or so she thought. For a long time, for the muggle-thrift store owner, that Monday was just like any other. She would sort out all the new goods while finishing her second coffee mug, then open the shop at nine o'clock sharp, have lunch behind the cashier as always, wait for Luna to arrive with her third coffee of the day in the middle of the afternoon, and so, at eight o'clock, lock the front door after turning off the lights.

On that Monday, everything went the same as usual until the witch closed the door of her house behind her. Yes, as soon as she stepped into the apartment, her cat interrupted its sleep and lifted its head to check the new presence, as usual. The redhead also threw her purse and key on the couch, kicked off her shoes and went straight for a bath, as she did almost every day. And she cursed as she remembered there was nothing for dinner in the fridge but bread and egg, a very common mistake on Mondays, after spending the weekend without stepping into the market.

But after dinner, Ginevra didn't go back to devouring the book she was reading, strategically positioned on the headboard. That night, at precisely nine-twenty-two, the red-haired witch abdicated the pages of her novel to focus on what had caught her attention early in the morning. And catching her attention that stubborn necklace did, refusing to fix itself with a simple wand touch and forcing her to use her near-zero hand skills.

It was worth it. At exactly ten o'clock, Ginevra closed the necklace around her neck, staring pleased at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Even in her pyjamas, that piece of fake jewellery was outstanding. Why would anyone donate that? The copper necklace matched her hair perfectly, while the pendant seemed to light up her chest. It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was-

"Bloody fucking piece of shit!"

Extremely noisy and impolite, she could not help but notice after hearing a curse cut in the air for the third time that night. It was the real love of her life, and she would fall for his qualities as much as for his dirty mouth. But at ten past ten, with a long Tuesday ahead, she couldn't be happy with her new neighbour. She fought hard to keep herself from knocking on his door when, at ten-twenty, the sound of what appeared to be a pile of boxes falling was heard. At half past ten, had it not been for her heavy sleep combined with the weariness that always accompanied after a weekend, she would blast his door open to see what the hell was going on, after a loud pop echoed through the neighbourhood.


	2. Neighbours

Everything could have been different had Ginevra not snoozed her first alarm at the crack of dawn that Tuesday. At the crack of dawn yes, because five in the morning was so freaking early for her, as for any sane person. It was as if this story was already written, meant to happen, for the woman, still half-asleep, never turned off her first alarm, much less did the same with her second. The third was the one the witch usually heard seconds before leaving her apartment.

So yes, it was as if it had been written to happen long ago, for this was the first time since leaving Hogwarts that the redhead completely overslept: the clock was marking ten to nine when Ginevra jumped from her bed. Five to nine when, after feeding her cat, putting on some presentable clothes and grabbing her purse, she slammed the door.

Had Ginevra stepped into the corridor five seconds earlier, she would have seen the man who had just moved. But in this story, we'll find that everything happens at the right time. In every story everything happens at the exact moment it should happen, and now was not the time to recognize her not-that-polite neighbour, who cursed so loudly the night before. Had she recognized her former high school college right in the middle of a muggle building, the witch would have been more than just five minutes late. And for everything to happen the right way, she couldn't waste any second more than those five.

So the witch skipped her first coffee that Tuesday, not wanting to be late for an appointment she had with a client just fifteen minutes after her usual opening hours. She also missed her second cup, since all the coffee had run out the day before. And on Tuesdays, she only got her third after eight. No, Ginevra was not at all pleased after realizing she would spend almost a whole day without caffeine.

She needed to hire a new assistant, and she needed to do it right now. It had been more than a week since she had placed the ad at the shop's entrance, the piece of paper was neon pink, how could anyone have missed it? Damned be Anne, deciding to get married and moving across the country! It was so unnerving to handle that business alone after the twenty-one-year-old muggle said I do, going to Merlin-knows-where with her stupid fiance. Argh, it was completely and utterly-

The loud ring of the phone interrupted her thoughts.

"Ginny?" she heard Harry's voice at the end of the line. For how many years were they together now? Six, seven years?

"Hi Harry," she said, forcing a smile. Putting a smile on your lips could do wonders to your voice, her mother used to say. "Everything's all right?" Seven and a half, she remembered. No, it wasn't ok, the witch knew before the next sentence came. She knew that tone; she just knew something was wrong. Just as there seemed to be something uncertain about her seven years of relationship.

"I'll have to cover Ronald again tonight."

She sighed. Funny how those last-minute warnings no longer bothered her. Funny, and relatively sad, not being so upset about spending a whole week without seeing her boyfriend because of his work. Since Hermione got pregnant - one of her best friends, only a year older than her, married for almost two years - Ronald needed many days off. Rose was much sicker than usual - at least she thought - and Harry Potter was always willing to help so his best friend could take care of his daughter.

One more night alone, and she didn't care.

Something was very, very wrong.

"No problem, darling." Darling. Argh. "I'll see you on Friday, how about that?" She had become the kind of person who used the word darling, and not even in some ironic way.

"You're the best, Ginny." At least he didn't end that conversation with darling. "See you Friday, darling." Damn her for assuming too soon.

Ginevra heard a click before putting the old phone back on the hook.

"Oh Merlin, I need coffee." She dropped the words to herself, looking with disappointment at her right hand, free of any ring. "I really need coffee."

...

It was a caffeine-free day, much to her unhappiness. Which means it was a day with Ginevra in a mood far from good. The headache of withdrawal threatened to appear any second now. At least she lived literally on the other side of the street. And there was coffee in her apartment, right? Yeah there was, even an unopened bag, she remembered. At exactly eight o'clock, the woman closed the store and hurried across the street, entering her building as a cold wind blew. It was still September, why the hell was getting this chilly already? Hot coffee seemed even better now.

She climbed the stairs, two steps at a time, and then finally spotted her new neighbor having trouble with his door lock, just like the last one. Strange how with only a glance, Ginevra was sure she knew the owner of that platinum hair. Nah.

"You need to pull back a little, watch me." she said, opening her door without a second glance. "The owner needs to fix these locks." And you need to stop cursing so late at night, but that thought stayed only in her mind.

"Weasley?"

That was when she froze, a second before turning the doorknob. Merlin be damned, Ginevra was completely sure she knew that voice. She knew that man. That wizard. And the person standing there, posing as her new neighbor, was the most unlikely thing that could have happened on that Tuesday. Or on that week, on that month, on that life.

"You are freaking kidding me." What was Draco Malfoy doing there? Looking back at her former high school friend - as if she could call him a friend - her jaw dropped a little more after seeing him in dark blue jeans and a white T-shirt. Why was he wearing muggle clothes? "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Same thing you're doing dressed like that."

"Excuse me?"

"You're what, twenty-four? And still dresses like you're just out of a thrift store." WHAT?

How could this excuse of a wizard offend her by pointing out the obvious? Yes, she was totally dressed in clothes that came from a thrift store, but how could he make it sound so offensive? Was it his stupid intonation? Or was it just because the words came from him? Not that the flowered skirt and the pink t-shirt were her best match, but she only got thirty bloody seconds to get ready on that bloody morning!

"Cat got your tongue, Weasley?" Shine chose that moment to impose herself from the other side of the door with a long, angry meow. "Don't you think it's amazing how I've got everything right so far?" It could be her lack of caffeine, couldn't it? She was having withdrawal symptoms, that was her hallucinating! "Weasley?" But no, her imagination wasn't that fertile — and even if it was, imagine Malfoy as her neighbour was just plain sick.

"Cast a freaking silencing spell if you're going to be that loud after ten." she replied irritably, entering her apartment. "Or I'll make a complaint to the tenant!" And without a second glance, Ginevra slammed the door before the cat decided to greet the new human standing in the hallway.

...

Draco didn't exactly want to move. Far from it, Draco Malfoy was very fond of living where he lived, but the circumstances made it a little impossible for him to stay in Wiltshire. Draco was not keen to do any kind of community work either. He was one of the few people in the world who didn't need to work a day in his life. In fact, he still wanted to remain unemployed. He swore they could solve it with a few hundred galleons. It was a few thousand, accompanied by a year of community service.

Hearing his sentence early that Monday, he was sure mondays were not good days for anything. Aside from all the money and time lost, the wizard would also have his wand collected by the end of the day. The Ministry thought those last few - supervised - hours of being able to perform magic would be enough for the man to make all the arrangements necessary for his next year in hell.

Was it then a year without magic, while doing community work, the definition of hell for Draco Malfoy?

You see, the problem wasn't exactly being forbidden to use magic - because one thing or another he could certainly do without his wand, and that kind of magic wasn't exactly prohibited in the sentence read to him. Much less did it bother him the galleons he had to pay - in fact, he thought that was only fair. His definition of hell was to be forced to work directly with muggles. Hell was being forced to live in a Muggle neighborhood, near his new future Muggle work, because it was impossible to get there on time, day after day, without being able to apparate. A year without apparating. Any happiness could go away thinking about it.

So that Tuesday, when he answered Ginevra Weasley, he found himself very polite when he didn't use the word fuck. He deserved a few days less in his sentence just for such a good education. After all, he just asked if she had gotten dressed where he was bound to work for a year.

By the end of Tuesday, it hadn't even crossed his mind who Ginevra Weasley really was to him, because such a thing was completely out of the question. It would be too much, even from the Ministry. It would be too sadistic to be true. He remembered Monday night, when the Ministry's employee apparated in the middle of his living room, not caring that it was already after ten, a neon pink paper in hands. He would work in a thrift store. In a thrift store. With second-hand clothes. Now thinking about it, this was so Weasley that if he had stopped to put his thoughts in order, he would have come to an obvious conclusion when he saw the witch enter the apartment next to his own. Across the street from his future job - and shit, he is supposed to start the job Tuesday. Would he have to pay extra hours for that first infraction on his first day?

Well, there was no reason to worry about that now. It was already Wednesday, and he was already late, the clock on the nightstand informed him. Ten after nine. Blessed be that apartment found next to that shithole he would need to call work for a whole year.

Maybe because he was already so fucked up, the surprise to see that redhead behind the counter wasn't that big.

"So you were really using second hand's." It was clear the place was hers. Even the name screamed Weasley: Scarlet second hand clothing. Argh.

"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" As it was clear that no one from the Ministry had spoken to her. "Went bankrupt with all the lawsuits on your family, and sadly I was the last one to know?"

What was not clear to either of them - and perhaps it would never cross their minds - was that everything had to happen the way it did for the moment that would change everything happen. See, if Ginevra had woken up that Tuesday the first time her alarm rang, and arrived at the usual time in front of the thrift store, she would have found a young woman eager to get her first job. But the girl's anxiety remained only until nine o'clock, when she noticed that the job offer glued on the front door no longer existed. If Draco had come to work on Tuesday, the day they were both in terrible moods, their start would be much more difficult than it would be that Wednesday.

"I want to talk to the owner." It was almost fun to pronounce the sentence, already knowing the answer to come. His humor was much better than yesterday, as Draco almost laughed seeing the redhead pointing at herself. This was going to be so much fun. "Well, it looks like I'm your new employee, Scarlet."

It was as if the gates of hell had opened wide for Ginevra Weasley. Maybe she hated the news more than the blonde did, for the look on her face, and all the whathefuck's he could hear echoing in her head. She was definitely not happy. At least he wouldn't suffer alone. No, he could even have some fun with the situation.

"Ginny?" And the situation seemed to get better by the second, because for all the wizards that could have entered the store, it was that one that opened the door. But of course he would be there, Draco was surprised that he wasn't the one present at the reading of his sentence. "Malfoy."

"Potter."

And without another word, the bespectacled wizard turned to his high school sweetheart. Yes, working there was much nicer than Draco had imagined, especially now seeing the woman having trouble verbalising words. Faking disinterest while flipping through an old book on the cashier's desk, the blonde listened the Auror whine about spending the night trying to change it and failing — which was, indeed, amazing, for when had that damn wizard failed to achieve something? Harry Potter would make himself Minister, had he really wanted to keep the ex-slytherin far from his girlfriend. Draco couldn't help but think he would finally have to move from London if Potter became Minister of Magic, while trying to ignore the discussion that grew louder by the second.

In the end, Ginevra was far from happy with both her new helper and her old boyfriend. And he didn't even have to read her thoughts to find that out.

"I am watching you, Malfoy."

"It's not like I could do much without my wand, Potter." he answered, seeing the man walk out the wooden door, a totally frustrated expression on his face. His boss was wearing a much similar look on her face.

He couldn't help his next phase, said out loud only when they both were alone again.

"Wait until he knows where I'm living."

And with some pleasure, he watched the redhead's brown eyes widen.


	3. Silence

It was no secret that, after the war, not even with all the connections in the world, the Malfoy family didn't escape the accusations. It was front page news for months, in every newspaper, how the members of that magical family were, for lack of a better word, fucked. Whenever one thought Lucius Malfoy's could have anything worse to expose, a new article appeared and held everyone's attention and breath for another many consecutive weeks.

And with Malfoy's scandals exposed, those first couple of postwar years went by. Ginevra, having both her father and boyfriend working directly at the London Ministry of Magic, knew the lawsuits against the family continued, even after the headlines stopped. Thanks to that, it was no surprise to hear about Draco's conviction. It was a surprise, however, that he ended up working just at her store.

"Harry says it's part of his sentence, and there is no other place that fits the penalty." she told her best friend, her voice showing all the excitement the week was bringing.

"He must be freaking out about it." She wondered who the older witch was referring to, but kept quiet: neither wizard was exactly happy with the outcome, so she might as well assume that the phrase would fit them both.

"There's nothing to do." she said, placing the dirty dish inside the sink and, after closing the curtains, cleaning everything with a flick of her wand. "I didn't even have the desire to kill him yet, and it's already Thursday."

"Very grown up of you." It sure was. "I can come by tomorrow. If you want me to."

"I think I'll survive without you until next Tuesday, Luna."

* * *

On Friday, half past nine in the morning, Ginevra had to admit that Malfoy worked better than she expected. Way better. Since she expected the man to curse her clients - even though he didn't have a wand anymore -, he being monosyllabic behind the cashier was much more than the redhead could wish for. Once in a while the wizard even checked the money that was handled to him. Sometimes, he even gave her clients their change - that she still didn't know whether or not was being given correctly. It was just like that old saying: keep your expectations low and you will never be disappointed

"Hey! Missing ten dollars here, smart ass!" At least she was sure the wizard had no reason to steal from her. But yeah, she had to keep her expectations low.

She looked idly at the new donation box, unopened: it was still half past nine in the morning. She would have a full day of silence if the blonde decided to copy his actions of yesterday, and it was not even ten o'clock. Only at eleven forty-five it crossed her mind that she was his freaking boss, and could totally strike up a conversation with her new assistant.

"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ginevra just had nothing pleasant to say - much less to demonstrate - to her former classmate.

"Working." he answered, looking at her as if that wasn't obvious.

"With all the money you have, the least I expected was to hear about you suffering in Paris - not in the middle of a thrift store." Low expectations: It was far better to get no response than to start a fight.

But that amazed her: silence from him was so strange. She had to confess that she was expecting a very different reaction from this wizard. How could she complain about him now, with the man not being rude at all? Things were much, infinitely better, than her expectations. It was as if no one was working with her. It was better than her imagination had created that Wednesday. It was totally bizarre, because that wasn't the normal behavior of Malfoy, and of that she was sure.

"_What the hell_ are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I'm stalking you, and this is all part of a big plan to end your peace." The answer came after a few seconds, the serious voice almost making her believe it. "I'm working, Weasley."

* * *

September flew by, and the redhead wondered if the months would go faster and faster as she got older. Her life wasn't even the busiest for time to run the way it was - she didn't even want to imagine the life of anyone who was the opposite of her. Did Malfoy's also feel that way? Or was he trapped in an eternal limbo, and every minute was like a whole year? She couldn't help but wonder. She really wished the last option was true every time she lost her temper.

It was October, and Ginevra could count the words they exchanged. Malfoy was not the most talkative wizard, or so he was keen to show. Expectations, which had already risen, were no longer exceeded, and the witch was growing angrier with each passing day. She wanted a damn assistant. She was stuck with a damn man who couldn't even freaking be nice to her clients.

Ginevra twisted her necklace - which had been around her neck since that Monday - around her fingers, rolling her eyes as she saw Malfoy returning from his lunch and heading straight for the back of the store. Wasn't his lunch time over yet? She was about to go after the wizard when a pointed hat came toward her, a girl no more than ten stopping in front of the cashier, counting the coins as she grimaced.

"Looking for a costume to make your Halloween more magical, little one?" The little girl's grimace only increased.

"My mother said it doesn't exist." the mini muggle said, placing a dollar coin on the counter.

"Halloween?"

"Magic." Ginevra couldn't help laughing. "What's so funny?" The child asked, not looking very happy with the redhead's reaction.

"Oh, but your mother is mistaken. Can I tell you a secret?" she said, approaching the girl before whispering. "I'm a witch." The redhead almost laughed when seeing the surprise in the child's eyes.

"You are?"

"Believe me, I am. And so are you. Because there's a little witch inside each of us." she continued, watching with pleasure the once sad expression changing to one of contentment. "Now let me tell you another secret. Believing in yourself is the most powerful magic out there. If you can do that, you can do anything."

"Even magic tricks?"

Maybe not this.

"Even magic tricks." But the girl didn't need to have that rubbed in her face.

Children were so easy to please. Her initial pout was now a smile, and the girl who had been upset by her mother's words was now exiting the store happily with a pointy hat on her head and thoughts on the great secret that had just been revealed to her.

Ginevra was also so easy to please. Malfoy just didn't give a damn about doing something to please his boss.

"You're very cliché, Scarlet." she heard his voice for perhaps the second time that day, the nickname she hated following the offense.

"And you are very rude." and he laughed.

"You can do better than rude, Scarlet."

Oh, she really hated Mondays.

* * *

A life where he only had his Sundays off wasn't exactly one Draco had asked for. Yes, he was way more conformed with his sentence. Thinking about a whole year bounded to that red haired witch didn't even bother him any more. Spending time with the she-Weasley could even be somehow entertaining - Lucius would never know about this, of course. But watching her argue with her so-called boyfriend was much more fun than he could imagine. It was a far from perfect relationship. Tepid. Tedious. Was it money that kept her with that wizard?

Whatever it was, he hoped it would continue for as long as he spent there. Seeing the imperfections on something that everyone found flawless could still put a slight smile on his thoughts.

He also had to admit - only to himself - that the witch was a funny person to have around. A thought he wouldn't have in his teens, something he would never consider in his short period as a death eater. With no good manners, ruder than any woman he had met, and posessing zero fashion sense - today exposed by a combination of red boots, pink skirt and a blue sweater - but funny.

And with such incredible musical taste, he was forced to admit. As much as most of the songs that heard her humming were muggle-made from the eighties - and yes, thanks to Zabini he knew a few lyrics - Draco couldn't complain about the daily playlist.

"There's a room where the light won't find you," And again, he had to admit that her taste for this was so much better than Astorias. That woman couldn't find good music, not even if her life depended on it. "Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down!" The witch knew she was singing loudly, didn't she? "So glad we almost made it," She was funny. "So sad they had to fade it-" So funny, especially when she was so moronic in front of all clients. "Sorry." She said, before going back to where he was, red as a tomato.

Draco only noticed his eyes were still on her when Ginevra punched him in the arm. How dare she? "Do _not_ look at me like that!"

"Like you're crazy?" the answer came automatically and she punched him again. "This is physical harassment!"

"And what do you know about it, Malfoy?" More than you do, he wanted to answer. But again, he remained silent. "Sometimes I find myself singing." Sometimes, of course. More like every fucking day. "And I don't realize until you _make that stupid face_." What?

He didn't know what the hell had been so funny about. The way she said? The fact that she was the one with a stupid face? Draco had no idea, but for the first time he let himself genuinely laugh in front of his _boss,_ in a way few people had seen in his twenty-five years.

"Stop laughing at me!" One more punch, but his laughter only stopped when the witch moved away.

There was still a hint of a smile on his lips when he met Blaise during lunch, and because of that Draco had to put up with his friend looking at him strangely throughout his short one-hour break. The damn wizard was blocking his thoughts, but the former Slytherin would've been able to get something out of his best friend's mind after their meal, had he not got distracted buying an addictional cup of coffee with his usual tea.

Zabini, as if knowing something only he had known so far, decided not to say anything about his friend's new choice of drink, merely giving him Astoria's message.

"Pansy also asked when we're going on a double date."

And Draco just glared at his friend, rolling his eyes.

"What?"

"You, more than anyone, know this is never going to happen."

It was a little annoying that those dark eyes watched him as if they knew something he still didn't.

"Sure."

Zabini left without another word.

Holding both the coffee and his tea, Draco pushed the door with his shoulder and found the redhead with the same annoyed face as before. He set the plastic cup on the counter in front of her without a word, taking a sip of his tea as he observed in silence Ginevra's over-expressive face.

"To improve your bad mood, _boss_." he said, seconds after the redhead found out it was coffee - and for her. "And yes, I'm rude, and I don't give a shit."

And for a moment, Draco liked when he saw the frown turn into a smile.

* * *

Four forty-five, and Draco hated the wall clock that seemed to slow time down. Worst of all, he was sure that nothing in this store was magical, so time had decided to slowed down by itself since he'd started working there. God fucking damn it.

Maybe he should follow the redhead and cling to a book, any book. Maybe time will go faster again with some kind of distraction. There were a few in the shop, and Weasley surely wouldn't complain if he got one, would she? She had complained little since he decided to remain silent all day. After all, the less interaction, the better, Draco was sure the assumption went both ways.

The fewer questions Ginevra felt comfortable asking, the better.

He had only thought about that after a whole day of teasing. Maybe time would pass faster if they were like this every day, but it was so much safer not to risk it and treat her with indifference. The less comfortable she felt asking any questions, the better. Draco didn't need a whole year with her despising him even more than she already did.

He was already on his way to the bookshelf when a voice made him stop halfway - and he should stop using his legilimency. That could end up putting him in trouble.

But that was such an absurd thought that there was no way he could ignore it.

_She's so fucking hot._ Was the muggle really referring to his boss? That witch? _I could do her all night long._ He definitely needed to stop using his legilimency.

He just needed to know how in Salazar's name would anyone think that of the she-Weasley. Unless the muggle fashion sense was greatly disturbed, what he saw behind the cashier was far from interesting. And it wasn't because of secondhand clothes, but the whole package. Draco didn't find freckles attractive. Draco didn't enjoy the red hair. Not to mention the pair of hands that screamed help: short nails, fingers all red from the annoying habit she had to stick them in her mouth and mutilate the loose skin with her teeth.

_Maybe I can find out if she's a real redhead._

But even so, Draco gave up finding a book and walked to the man, placing himself between Ginevra and the muggle's field of vision.

"Can I help you?" He asked, barely getting the attention of the man before his next phrase. "She's not for sale." The words left the muggle with an almost embarrassed expression.

"Sorry man, I didn't know." He apologized and didn't prolong his stay at the thrift store.

"What did you do for him to leave, Malfoy?" Draco heard the redhead ask from behind the cashier a second after the door shut, shaking her head. What he really wanted to say was that he informed she wasn't for sale - he chose to just roll his eyes and finally direct himself to the bookcase.

His hands were on a very old, almost falling apart book, when the witch almost gave Draco a heart attack by appearing behind him without a sound. Thanks to all his years of training how to hide his emotions, the wizard remained a mask of calm, even with his heart almost leaping out of his mouth.

"Want one?" He saw a pink donut as he turned to find out why the heck she had to touch him on the shoulder.

"This is disgusting." The witch seemed untouched by his harsh words.

"It's delicious. Take it, I really appreciate the coffee." Ridiculous, forcing him to get one of those perfects, completely covered in sugar, fried donut.

"Don't get used to it." He didn't even like raspberry and had been denying sweets for years now. Still, the donut ended up in his hands, Draco taking a bite while hoping the action would make her leave him alone again.

The redhead seemed too thrilled about the bite. Shit, was that candy poisoned? It didn't seem like it, from what he could hear coming from that head of fire. Oh, so she found him more pleasant than she thought he would be?

"Go, you're done for the day."

That donut really wasn't poisoned, right?

"It's still five."

Maybe it was better not to spend the night alone. At least it was a good excuse to visit Astoria.

"You'll open tomorrow."

With a half smile, the wizard left without another word. Maybe he'd stopped accepting the next donuts that would come soon, had Astoria commented on how happier the wizard seemed to be that night.

* * *

Stroking Shine's little furry head, Ginevra realized that she had been happy with Harry cancelling their night once again. It was Monday, she told herself. Everyone was too lazy to do anything on Mondays. So she shouldn't feel guilty about the happiness that dominated her as she lay on the couch and turned on the television.

She also told herself that she shouldn't smile when she remembered the coffee - so much tastier than she was used to - given by her assistant. She was happy with any caffeine given, and it was only for that reason that she let herself smile.

But she had to admit that Malfoy had been nicer than usual that weekend, and that the witch could get used to this new behaviour. It would be nice to have someone to talk to again during her afternoons free of any reading. Ginevra was sure that the wizard was not the same unbearable person she knew in her school days, and a male opinion could even help her relationship, warmer by the day.

It was when she heard a knock on the wall, accompanied by a female voice she swore to know, that the redhead shook her head and wondered what the hell she was thinking. Oh Merlin, what the hell was she thinking? And why the hell was she turning as red as a tomato when she heard a brazen, completely shameless male groan?

"I told you to cast a silencing spell!" Ginevra shouted, slamming back into the wall she shared with Malfoy. Only after she spoke those words did she remember that it would be kind of impossible, unless his company was also from the magical world. "Shit."

Sleep came later than she wanted that Monday night.

* * *

When Ginevra opened her eyes, later than usual, she had no idea that her bad mood could be anything but the few hours of sleep last night. She was certainly not jealous of the hot night that had been _shared_ with her for a good few minutes, and much less the noise that had left her sleepless. Well, not the _outside_ noise. Her mind managed to do an excellent job in keeping her eyes open until three in the morning.

She wasn't jealous, but was green with envy. Malfoy had a much, much better sex life than hers, and she was pretty sure that would be rubbed in her face all day long - if not for the wizard, for her subconscious.

"Got some sleep, Shine?" she asked the cat walking between her legs, filling the red bowl with food. "Surely you slept longer than me." The witch was about to make a big cup of coffee when someone knocked on her door.

Ginevra definitely didn't expect to find Harry Potter on the other side of the door. Harry Potter, holding what looked like a box of chocolates and wearing an incredulous expression, much less.

"Love, sorry for last night." he said, and only a second later she noticed that her boyfriend was reading a note, written on top of the golden box. "Love, sorry for last night?"

Shit.

Swearing was becoming more and more automatic these days.


	4. Electrifying

The clock struck eight o'clock in the morning when Blaise Zabini had his eardrums nearly burst by the electronic device next to him. Eight-two when the witch lying next to him made him turn off the alarm clock. Eight-ten when he suddenly remembered the favor he'd been asked last night, in exchange for letting them both spend the night in that apartment.

"I'll be right back, Pan." Zabini said, kissing the still naked woman after putting his clothes back on. "I have to go get our dickhead friend."

Ginevra was never aware, but it was the wizard's _pop_ that woke her up that Tuesday.

* * *

When Ginevra Molly Weasley came in bursting through the thrift store door, Draco Malfoy knew something was wrong. Not only did he knew, he was almost sure who was the responsible for it. Surprisingly, it wasn't him.

His morning had started very well, thanks to his lovely and naughty companion. In mornings like that, he remembered why he dated Astoria. The morning would have been far better hasn't Blaise Zabini popped in the middle of it. But then, he would rather have his friend apparating him back to this shitty hole than Astoria. It was much, much safer.

It was half-past nine and there was no sign that something had gone wrong last night. Zabini probably didn't destroy his apartment, but with the red-head crimson with anger, perhaps his friend was not so careful about the neighbors. Good Merlin, she was screaming in a deafening level inside her mind - and he should totally stop using his legilimency, he should definitely stop breaking daily the 'agreement' he had with the Ministry.

Draco was ready to ask what the fuck was going on with the witch when a box hit him right in the chest - and thanks to his years as a chaser, he prevented the chocolates from spilling all over the floor.

"What _possessed_ you to leave this on my doorstep?" _Love, sorry for last_ _night_, Draco read the card while mentally cursing at himself and his stupid friend. What the fuck, Zabini! Why in Merlin's name would Zabini leave that at Scarface girlfriend's door-

Then, the strangest thing happened: for the second time in less than a month, the wizard let himself laugh freely in front of his former boss. Oh Zabini, what the fuck!

"Malfoy, this is not funny!" Oh, she was so wrong! This was funnier than anything that had happened in all his year! That witch was crazy for everything sweet, he already noticed such detail - it was impossible not to notice. So, there was only one explanation for all her anger: it wasn't the redhead the first person to set eyes on the note.

Thanks to his legilimency, Draco was now sure that the chosen one was the one that found Zabini's handwriting. The wizard was also sure that he would be in deep trouble if he continued to laugh with no explanation at all. It was much better to keep laughing and actually do something, like dodging Ginevra's attempt to slap him, and grabbing a pen from the counter.

Writing on the chocolate box had the effect he expected, and the confused redhead gave up trying to punch him.

"What are you-"

"That's my handwriting." He shoved the box back at the witch. "I didn't spend last night in my apartment, by the way."

"But I did, _love_." Zabini finally made himself noticed. "Sorry for taking so long to cast a silencing charm, my hands were kind of busy. But you know that, don't you love?" Draco was sure she didn't. Maybe that's why her expression got even angrier, maybe that's why the redhead was looking like a bomb ready to explode. Potter was probably boringly warm in every aspect - that poor witch. "But worry no more, his apartment is now soundproof. Malfoy won't bother you anymore with his sluts, _Scarlet_."

"My name is _Ginevra_."

"Sounds like someone didn't get enough sleep last ni-"

"You better stop talking and start working, Malfoy." The chocolates ended up in the trash, Ginevra heading for the donation boxes that had been collected the day before.

"Someone really didn't get enough sleep last night." Blaise commented, not at all regretting his actions, and again blocking his thoughts. "Send my regards to Astoria, will you?" And with half a smile, after checking quickly if the shop remained muggle-free, the wizard disappeared with a loud pop.

Needless to say, this only worsened Draco boss's mood.

"Is he freaking insane?" Draco heard the redhead shout as he approached, trying to help her arrange some books on the shelf - not that this would improve the witch's bad mood, but he could at least give a try.

"Of all I know, he totally is. Worst influence ever." he answered, but only got a look that could very well had cursed him, if the witch had such power.

The silence reigned for a few more minutes until he saw the witch practically transfiguring a donut - because he had no fucking idea where the sweet came from. Was his silence a better option from what he was about to say? Yep. Did he chose the better option?

"You shouldn't be having sugar all fucking day long. You'll get fat if you keep eating this crap." Malfoy never did.

From the angry look he received, for a moment he thought the redhead would actually pull a wand out of her sweater and hex the life out of him.

"Now you want to chitchat, ferret?"

The silence remained for the rest of his working day.

* * *

Ginevra wished she could hex the Slytherin eleven times: one for every minute she spent arguing with her boyfriend over the chocolate box at her doorstep. At least Harry had believed her when she told him that the box was really just an excuse for her new noisy neighbor, thanks to whatever Malfoy broke on his apartment right in the middle of their fight.

When Ginevra knocked on the next door seconds after Potter apparated and a short-haired brunette answered it, her mood only got worse. That son of a bitch was sleeping with Parkinson!

"Can I help you?" the question came from the older witch, and for an instant Ginevra wondered if the brunette really didn't recognize her from school. Was Ginevra that different, for Parkinson to just look at her with a confused and annoyed expression? "Draco must be at work by now." Stupid witch.

She did not wait for an answer before rushing to the thrift store and had to restrain herself from entering with her wand in hand.

Her mood got even worse when she found out that no, the noises from last night had not been made by her goddamn ferret neighbor and the Slytherin who used to run after him back in Hogwarts, but by this witch and Malfoy's insane friend. Somehow, finding out that it was Zabini the responsible for all her sleepless hours made her heart a bit lighter. But why was she bothered by who did it? She should be annoyed about all her lack of sleep and period, and fuck it who kept her awake! For what she knew, both where responsible for the bags under her eyes, as well for the argument she had before 9 AM.

At least their fight had earned her dinner with her boyfriend that night - dinner which would be cooked by her. Well, better than nothing, right?

"Boil eight to ten minutes. Okay, I can do this." Ginevra hated cooking. "I'm not going to put on weight. Stupid git." At that moment, she couldn't hate Malfoy more. He was the only to blame for her attempt at making something edible in front of the stove.

When the doorbell rang, she had to restrain herself from cursing loudly: it was impossible for Harry to be here already! Impossible, even more because her boyfriend was not one that rang the doorbell: he had the damn key.

"What the hell?" Hell: she could curse better than that. And she did, when the pan filled with salt water ended up pouring all over her shirt. Ok, it was only water, it would probably dry till Harry got there and how in Merlin's name she spilled all that freaking water over herself? Lucky it was barely lukewarm, or the night would have ended up way earlier than she intended to.

The doorbell rang again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she shouted irritably, rushing to the door.

Like she guessed, the man on the other side was far from being Harry Potter.

"I believe this is yours." Malfoy said, holding up a white ball of fur. Oh, that evil spawn of a cat!

"Shine!"

"She could have fallen jumping from your balcony to mine, you know that, right?" The wizard scolded her, taking the cat away from her reach. "Perhaps it is better for _Shine_ to stay with me."

Ginevra was not in the mood for jokes that night.

"Give me my cat, Malfoy!"

The moment the feline heard the anger on her owner's voice, she did the only intelligent thing she could: she escaped, jumping from the blonde's arms to her owner's head, and then to the floor, rushing to her favorite spot. To Ginevra's luck, that had not been done gracefully: after the last push, the redhead had lost her balance and was thrown straight forward, where she landed on the top of a dry and totally surprised Draco Malfoy.

When her hand came into contact with the wizard's chest, for exactly one second it was as if both had been electrified.

"Outch!" She got up almost instantaneously.

"What the fuck, _Scarlet_? Did you just hexed me after I saved your fucking cat?" he looked at her with an unpleasant expression, getting up red with what Ginevra thought it was anger. "Take better care of your fucking things!" He shouted, getting up and going back to his apartment without another word, slamming the door.

Only when Ginevra entered hers after doing the same did she understood the red on Malfoy's face, the mirror on her living room showing how close to undressed she was waist up.

* * *

"It's delicious." she heard from her boyfriend after he swallowed the first mouthful of carbonara.

"It is, isn't it?" It was crap and she knew it, but at least he was polite enough to lie about it.

Ginevra would've rather go to a restaurant before the night started, but after finding out where Shine would've been stuck - and with who -, the woman was quite happy to stay in. They could have a proper dinner on the weekend.

"We haven't done that in a while. Have dinner." Or sex, her mind completed.

"Sorry for being so busy lately. Things will get better, I promise." How many times had she heard that in the past few months?

"You don't have to apologize, Draco." Ginevra gave the same automatic response as always, as she played some more with her pasta, twisting it on her fork while having nothing else to say.

But the silence was longer than it used to be.

"What did you say?"

"I said you don't have to apologize." Hadn't she said that out loud?

"Draco."

"I'm sorry?"

"You surely is! You don't have to apologize, _Draco_?" You don't have to apologize, Draco. Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit, she hadn't-

"Harry, I'm so sorry! He came over tonight to give me back Shine and I got so upset, the name must have been-."

"Give back your cat?" She was only making everything worse. "Why in hell he had Shine in the first place? Is Malfoy your neighbor or something?"

Her silence was all the answer the wizard needed.

"And you didn't think about telling me that?" the wizard asked angrily, and Ginevra for a second considered answering that yeah, she didn't really gave much though on telling him the news.

It was not that she didn't love him. It was just that he didn't listened to her anymore - everything was so different from their beginning. She knew he was really busy with work, she knew he was trying, they were both trying so freaking hard. But wouldn't it be better if they just stopped?

"No." Was she a terrible girlfriend for not telling him that?

"Hum." Was that why her years-long relationship was going nowhere? Because they have just forgot how to talk with each other?

Harry abandoned his fork and started walking towards the entrance.

"Where are you going?" Ginevra didn't even got up. "Harry, come on! Are you really mad I didn't tell you about it?" Apparently, his solution was to disappear from there, before a bigger fight started.

"Isn't it obvious?" Yes, it was pretty obvious. And for the first time ever, Ginevra though she was so, so tired of that.

"You don't give a shit about anything I tell you!"

Harry certainly didn't expect to hear those words today, she could see it by the surprised look on his face.

"You know, Gina." The wizard grabbed his coat, putting his spare key on the table next to the door. "I think a time apart would do us good."

She should have said no, she should have begged for him not to do that! Ginevra knew Harry Potter didn't believe in that shit, some time apart was just a poor excuse for a breakup! She should've-

"Some time apart would be great."

* * *

_Damn his alarm choosing not to ring that morning. His boss would surely kill him this time. He should have sent Astoria away long before ten. He rushed through the heavy door, the red-haired woman welcoming him wearing a much better expression than yesterday._

_"You're late." Ginevra said, taking off her coat. Incredibly, she had managed to match her clothes that time._

_"I know." Draco went to her and offered the cup he held in his hands. "Blame it on the coffee." he said, leaning her against the counter, the coffee forgotten on the wooden surface. "Do you want it, Ginevra?" She smelled like ginger: spicy and hot. What else was hot on that witch?_

_"I do."_

_The witch's next actions answered his question. The way she pulled his hair was hot. The way one of her hands drew him closer by his waistband. And the way the red-hair witch bit her lower lip was undoubtedly the hottest thing he had seen in his life._

_He could rip that skirt off and have her right there, and to hell with any client that could walk in. In a split second, Draco decided that yes, this would be the right thing to do. He captured her red lips and swallowed the moan that came as he set her on the counter, his hands removing the shirt standing in their way as she pulled him closer._

_Draco could come by just hearing her moan. He was sure of it, he was already so close, and when the wizard felt her warm hands inside his pants-_

* * *

His heart was racing when he woke up. What the fuck was that?

Oh fucking great, his subconscious was lusting after the she-Weasley. Certainly all the time those two spent together was to blame, along with that beautiful pair of breasts hidden by only a fucking wet white t-shirt - that didn't leave much to his imagination. It was definitely it, the wizard definitely didn't want that freckled body beneath him, or those unfeminine hands pulling his hair. He wanted even less to check if his boss really smelled like ginger as he fucked her at the store counter.

But Draco never got so hard in his entire life. And as much as he tried to think of Astoria, it was the vision of the red hair that undone him, as he let out a hoarse cry, while hoping Zabini wasn't lying about the silencing charm.

Fuck, he'd just got off thinking about those nasty freckles. Even worse, he was ready to go again just by the thought of her skin. Her freckles no longer looked disgusting, and free from any clothes, the ginger on his thoughts looked like a fucking goddess.

It was one in the morning, and Draco decided the best thing to do was not to fight. He let himself think about her mouth, her warm hands, her white freckled skin: better to end this now than to long for her in the middle of his workday. That was happening only because of a stupid dream and nothing more, and he would end this absurd right now.

His last fantasy was so real that Draco practically saw her riding him, and found out that yes, he could come just by hearing her moan.

He was so fucked.

* * *

It was another sleepless night, and Ginevra was already in her third cup of chamomile tea. She took one last sip before going back to bed, trying to think of anything but her nonexistent relationship. They were really done this time. Some time apart was just an excuse two terrified wizards used so they could break up without feeling guilty. There was no such thing as spending some time apart, love wouldn't magically reappear after not seeing him for weeks - she was doing that already while in a relationship.

And Harry thought that didn't work, giving each other space. She knew that, when you have been in a relationship with someone for more than seven years, you know many things.

And the witch knew there was no sadness in either of them after making that decision. They were more friends than boyfriend and girlfriend, and the almost forced relationship was ruining what was left of that friendship. Harry saw it that way too, she was sure. Just as she was sure their feelings would not change with the temporary separation.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath while trying to relax her muscles: just sleep. It was the best thing to do, she was already feeling sleepy. She closed her eyes at the same time a hoarse moan came from the wall next to hers - Blaise Zabini, that son of a bitch, who had put a silencing spell way up his ass, and not in her neighbors apartment.

But that voice was not the same as she heard the night before. No it wasn't, and this time she was sure about who was keeping her awake.

Ginevra should have thought about how she would look red - probably - when she looked at him tomorrow, she should have hit the wall and yelled at him to stop freaking moaning at 2 in the morning! She should have done anything but what her body was asking her to do.

Her more than 3 months without sex were to blame for it. Yeah, Malfoy was handsome, only a blind person could deny it: all the girls found him attractive in high school, and the bastard had gotten even hotter after his twenties. And yeah, Ginevra watched him from afar every other day, just to satisfy that part of her insane brain that was attracted to all the bad boys. What she couldn't do was touch herself while thinking about all that.

But then, the bastard kept making those sounds, and for Merlin, when did those walls got so thin? She could practically hear the wizard's heavy breathing, and if she closed her eyes, she could even feel it over her. She remembered seeing him once without a shirt, remembered how perfectly toned he was thanks to his Quidditch years.

Was sex with Draco Malfoy good? Was it great? Just the thought made her blush, but in that moment Ginevra didn't know anymore if she was blushing from shame or desire. She could hear short moans, and wished to know if the wizard was alone. She could only hear him, and for one second she imagined it was her the cause of Draco Malfoy touching himself. Was he really alone? Who was he thinking about?

Before she could stop herself, a sound that hadn't left her throat for a long time filled the room, followed by the sexiest groan she'd ever heard in her life. Merlin, he was really doing it, he was and that son of a bitch was totally coming. That thought alone was enough to make her follow, Ginevra biting her lip to keep from screaming, her eyes seeing black.

And for a second, in the midst of her stupor, she could have sworn she heard _Scarlet_ come out of Malfoy's thin lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for everyone (still) following the story, my free time is so freaking short right now but I haven't give up on the fic! Hope there's still someone here! And btw sorry for any grammar mistakes hahaha
> 
> Till the next one ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, I'm writing this one in English and Portuguese, and I intend to finish it - even if it takes me some time. I would love to know what you're thinking so far, I know it's less than 1000 words, but it is always nice to know if there's someone reading!
> 
> Till the next one ;)


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